Decoupage Hearts
by TheAllPowerfulOz
Summary: Lost Chapters of Fast Cars and Airplanes in Heaven… Is pretty much PWP…
1. Chapter 1

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**_I will put a reference note before each chapter where it seems relevant so you'll know where it was cut from and why._**

**_Love, OZ_**

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**_Reference;_**_ This was actually written as a bit of a flashback insert for Chapter 35 of **Fast Cars.** It was supposed to go right after the line _("…He beat up this idiot who stole his glasses one day. I mean really just beat the fear of God out of this guy, then came back to the room wearing them looking like Don Johnson or some shit—it must be genetic or something 'cause Malik's the same way. Whenever he gets into a fight and wins, afterward he wants sex and…" His lips compressed.) _Before Altair talks about Kadar's death. I changed it simply because it made no sense to have a random graphic sex scene in the middle of what was supposed to be a meaningful conversation. _

_Kadar/Altair_

_Yes, you read that correctly. *smirk*_

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**Chapter 1; Aviators**

It wasn't often that a day came around where they weren't patrolling or drilling or policing the area, but on the odd chance that it happened Altair had a stash of books in his trunk.

They were small things, paperbacks and hand-me-downs he got in a care package from home every few weeks. But, Altair liked books… more specifically, he liked horror novels… And his older brothers liked sending him _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_.

Altair liked to pretend he was Angel sometimes, just for the hell of it.

Broke up the monotony of the day anyway.

He was lying there on his bunk sweating and tired but unable to sleep and trying to discretely enjoy the crushed and crumbled peanut butter cookies his mother had sent him when the door banged open.

He would later wonder why he chose to hide the cookies first instead of the fact he was reading a fifteen-year-old girls' cheesy _Buffy_ novel, maybe it was the knowledge that if anybody knew he had cookies they'd sneak them and leave him only crumbs, or maybe it was because he knew if Malik came back and discovered he'd been hiding sweets in his trunk the older boy would punch him in the shoulders until he bruised and then go tell the CO that it really _was_ Altair's fault they had ants in their barracks and they could politely give back his goddamned potted plants.

But, it wasn't Malik standing there… Although at first glance he had thought it was.

No, nobody else would be behind those ass ugly mirrored Aviators.

"Kadar, get the fuck out, you nosy piece of shit!" And he threw his book at him, scowling severely because not only had he just been scared enough to possibly ruin his shorts, he'd been scared by the one person in the whole company who couldn't sneak up on you if you paid him to.

Kadar didn't move though, just swaggered in with a crooked grin on his face, knocking the door shut behind him with a kick of his heel.

Altair flopped back over like a fish on the docks and glared up at him. Even more irritated now that all he could see was his own reflection in the younger man's sunglasses; "What do you want?" He tugged the box of cookies half under himself; "Don't even think about it! I shared with you and Malik last time and you fuckin' ate 'em all!"

"Just one?" He grabbed at the box playfully, still just a smiling face and reflective lenses.

Altair shoved his hand away and rolled over again, hugging the box to his chest; "Fuck off. I didn't try to take that jelly your dad sent you."

"Marmalade, get it right. Orange Marmalade." His hand shot out again, like a cobra on the attack, but Altair deflected him. "Come oooon. If you give me one, I won't tell Malik you've got 'em."

"You tell him and I'll break your fuckin' sunglasses."

Kadar snorted and brandished his bruised knuckles; "If I can take Jefferson I can take you asshole." He was on the bed in a second, tickling and pinching and pulling, trying to get the box away.

Altair punched at him a few times, and in a move of utter desperation to please god no more tickles, he started shoving the cookies two at a time into his mouth.

Rationality dictated that if there were no more cookies Kadar couldn't take one from him, and coldn't tell Malik either.

It worked… that is until the hands tickling him and pulling halfheartedly at the cookie box, started pulling at his shirt, and the laughing mouth near his ear slipped and latched onto the side of his throat.

Altair froze, six cookies in his mouth, four more in his hands, eyes wide and staring at the far wall. In his mind little sirens were going off, and an annoying little soldier had built a rather hasty tent in his pants.

"Kadar?" Or at least that's what he tried to say, it came out muffled and completely indecipherable.

And then one of the hands yanking at his shirt found a nipple, and pulled—

He arched into it, confused and a little humiliated at the same time, dropped the cookies back into the box and gave the younger man a single hard shove off of him.

Kadar landed in the floor on his back with a loud thud. He cursed and levered himself up on his elbows, sunglasses askew. "What's your problem!"

Altair would have answered, would have shouted that he wasn't the one doing the groping, but it wouldn't come out around a mouthful of cookies. So instead he scowled severely, hoping to convey the hate and anger through his gaze, and began chewing quickly.

Kadar laughed at him and plucked his sunglasses off, folding them and setting them carefully on his bunk. He stood and seemed to ignore Altair as he went about slowly, and carefully preening in the mirror near the door, rubbing a reddened bruising spot under his eye, and pinching at his hair, trying to make the shortened top fan out like he was used to. Twisting this bit or that bit until it made fashionable little spikes at the back of his head.

Altair swallowed with some difficulty, practically gagging because he'd tried to force it all down at once, then growled miserably and started chewing again, raising a hand to point at the younger man just to let him know that he intended to say something scathing and generally mean spirited to avenge his bruised pride.

Those blue eyes met his in the mirror, and there was something about the way they shone, something hungry and commanding and ALIVE in them. Something he'd never really seen before.

Altair finally got the cookies down and was opening his mouth to tell him to fuck off, that it's not funny and it was just fucking mean to do something like that just to get a goddamned cookie! To not do something like that unless he meant it!

But Altair's mouth flapped a few times because something inside of him was telling him in a rather sassy little condescending voice that Kadar _had_ meant it… And that changed everything.

"That… that's not fair, Kadar… Don't do that."

Kadar was grinning, showing off his dimples, and his eyes flashed; "You think it's fair to me when you come in here from the latrine and walk around in nothin' but a towel? Think it's fair to me when Malik makes me leave because you're too immodest to get dressed where nobody can watch you? Or that you lay there at night masturbating to a fictional character when I'm right there?" He chuckled, the sound somehow dark and dangerous even in the light tone of his voice.

"Oh?" And a slick thrill ran up his spine. A little surprised though why he didn't know. "Do you think you can do better?"

He chuckled again. And the very soft, rumbling sound of it made Altair realize that this kid meant business.

He snorted and looked Kadar up and down with a critical eye; "That's the best news I've heard all day," He didn't bother closing the box of cookies, or even putting them aside, just planted his feet on the mattress and arched his hips up so he could work his belt off.

Kadar seemed to pounce on him like a jungle cat, one second he was by the flimsy door, the next he'd slammed the lock into place yanked the makeshift curtain closed over the window and launched himself at the bed.

There was no finesse to it really, just a quick shedding of uniforms, Pausing every so often when fingers tangled, slapping and pinching trying to get the other out of the way. Cursing and a few 'Are you stupid? FUCK! BE CAREFUL!' And the next thing Altair knew his t-shirt was bunched around his throat, Kadar had his left nipple trapped between pearly white teeth and his fatigues were somewhere across the room on Malik's bed, his underwear caught on a loose nail in the rafters… And there were two long, probing fingers pushing roughly into him.

In his head he was chanting that the little shit wasn't using proper lube and it kinda hurt, but his mouth was open, growling out encouragements. Did you lock the door? Don't want Malik walkin' in on this, and this better not be just so you can steal those fucking cookies.

Kadar just grinned and fumbled in one of the pockets of his pants, dropping a little sandwich baggie filled with assorted cheap condoms the Medic passed out regularly with the standard verbal warning ground out in that nasally voice of his _'don't be stupid guys… really, don't be stupid. You knock a girl up over here you gotta marry her.'_

Altair always laughed when the poor schmuck came to their barracks. Malik would blush and hide his face in a National Geographic, Altair wouldn't bother to look up from the latest book his family had sent, just send the guy his standard noncommittal grunt, and Kadar would spring to his feet and ask the poor medic why they couldn't get the 'ribbed for her pleasure' kind, and stuff one or two into his pocket.

Judging from how many were in that bag, Altair was willing to bet he hadn't used very many of them, if any.

There was a moment, a brief thing, when Kadar shoved his pants down and palmed himself that Altair realized he was just plainly staring.

He'd expected, from the way Kadar had grinned, that the younger man was hung like a fucking horse or something, it was a relief and maybe even a little disappointment that everything looked normal.

Damn…

He reigned himself in, shaking off a little of the mindless arousal and focusing on Kadar instead of his wants. It was more than likely that this would fall short of his expectations, just like his first time. It was more than likely that this would be that boring, fashionably beautiful sex from the romance novels he'd secretly borrowed from his mother. He figured it would look pretty on paper, but in practice wouldn't be all that great…

He shouldn't have worried.

Rough sex, to Altair, was the best kind of sex. It wasn't that he was a masochist, though he would delve into that off and on just for the thrill of it. No, Altair just craved those all too brief moments when sensation became so razor sharp, when his senses just became so completely overloaded, that there was nothing else. No worry, no anger, no need to prove himself or forget… Just mind blowing, _fasthothardrightnow _sensation.

And that… that slick hard burn of penetration without enough lube, and the _fuckfuckfuck_ pounding against that oh so sensitive place inside him and the sharp slap of skin against the backs of his thighs—the breath knocked out of his lungs at every thrust, drawn back in as a gasp because he needed air and had to get it quick before it was gone again… _THIS,_ was probably the ugliest most unattractive sex he'd ever had— and that included sloppily kissing James Hawkins and letting the asshole take his virginity in the back of a Cutlass —but it felt fucking fantastic!

Altair wondered absently in the back of his mind where Kadar had learned to fuck like this, images of their childhood flashing behind his eyes of how many times he and Malik had teased the younger boy and made him do such dumb things to 'prove he was man enough'. He wondered briefly if this was some kind of revenge, learning to fuck like a god and then making him beg for more just so he could laugh and tell his brother; _'I fucked Altair… And he begged for it like a whore.'_

There was nothing worse for one brother to do to another than fuck his best friend. Absolutely nothing worse… And seeing as none of them were married, it would probably always be the worst.

_What a jerk—_ Teeth on his ear, tugging, whispering filthy— _hot_— filthy things— _don't stop, please GOD don't stop!_

He wanted to move his hands, do anything other than just gripping at Kadar's ear and shoulder like he was drowning. Wanted his voice to actually come up with something more to say than; _'Oh-oh-oh god—Ah-ah—ha-har-harder harder—**AH!** Yes!'_ and that all too shrill moan as he bared his neck, eyes squeezed closed because he knew if he opened them all he'd be able to see would be Kadar's dog tags swinging back and forth in hectic time with their rhythm and his own feet locked behind the younger man's head. And it was a hard enough hit to his pride realizing he had his legs over Malik's little brother's shoulders and the little pipsqueak was fucking him quite spectacularly. He could feel all of it, he didn't need visual evidence that he was loving every second of it.

"Y-you bastard… I-if you tell M-malik about thi-this—"

Kadar just smiled into his neck; "Never in a million years."

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	2. Chapter 2

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_Short Chapter… _

**_Reference_**_; This was written to go in Chapter 31 but I cut it because it wasn't really needed to move the story along. Altair seeing them and the suggestion was enough._

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**Chapter 2; Tangled Logic**

"You never know," She said, sitting there oh so delicately in nothing but a silk robe, her skin seeming to shine in the low lamplight, that box between them. "You might like it."

Malik was still dazed, lying on his stomach, arm folded under his jaw. The sheet riding low across his backside. If he hadn't been still pleasantly boneless and muzzy headed he might have been a little offended that she would suggest bringing something like that into their bedroom.

"It's unnatural…" He'd meant it to come out firmly, but it was more of a stubborn whine in all actuality. "What's so bad about things the way they are?"

Hadiya shrugged; "Nothing, I'm just curious… I've heard stories that it's quite pleasurable."

"You've been talking to Altair?"

"No… My—my sister actually."

Malik blinked rapidly; "Neema? Your sister's done things like this to Grant?"

She grinned, something devious and just plain sexy and Malik couldn't help but shift his hips against the mattress as he looked at her.

"Grant was actually the one to suggest this particular… instrument." She plucked up the colorful little box and rattled it at him for emphasis then turned the label to her own eyes and examined it. "I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not… And I know you won't tell anyone." He flipped his fingers; "Well, you won't tell anyone I know, you know what I meant."

"Then what are you so afraid of?"

His eyebrows drew down; "I happen to have an irrational fear of things being inside me… I still have nightmares about that movie you made me watch on our first date!"

She snorted; "Alien? You're so silly."

"It was horrific… I'm scarred for life."

"Oh, you poor thing." She poked out her tongue, unrepentant.

"I will never understand your fascination with science fiction."

"It's not a fascination, it's a way of life, deal with it."

He rolled his eyes and grinned acceptingly.

She smiled, satisfied that she'd won and popped open the box, checking that the batteries worked. She closed the thing in her fist to test the intensity of the vibrations; "Just once, that's all I ask… If you don't like it we don't have to do it again."

He grumbled and rolled onto his back, rubbing at his eyes to clear them, then sighed in a put upon, defeated way and let his arm flop back to the bed. "Once… We'll try it once…"

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	3. Chapter 3

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**_Reference;_**_ Superfluous mansex Part 1… Chapter 60._

_Oh, yes… I did._

_(Takes place right after Dev**il Child **in **Family Men**.)_

Altair/Ezio, with Ezio in charge.

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**Chapter 3; Save a Horse…**

Altair grumbled and cursed under his breath, tugging the hood of his sweatshirt up over his eyes and stalking from the room.

Ezio thought he heard the word 'douchebag' and thought it was probably the funniest thing he'd ever heard come out of Altair's mouth.

Leo was slouched backward in his seat rubbing at his eyes, brows scrunched in irritation but he didn't say a word.

Malik chuckled lightly, as if pissing Altair off delighted him in some weird way, and asked if anybody was hungry that Hadiya had made a big bowl of hummus and had baked bread the night before when she'd woken up with a straaaa… Haha, who wants coffee!

Leo straightened and put his tools aside and thanked the older man quietly, looking worn and fatigued for some reason.

Ezio said he'd go ask Altair if he wanted some.

"Tell him to stop acting like a spoiled brat and get over himself." Malik called from the kitchen, swiping his finger through the contents of the bowl and popping it in his mouth with a satisfied rumble.

Ezio found him lying on his face across the bed, the music turned up on his stereo. He recognized the song, but couldn't remember the name of the band at all. "Do you just enjoy early nineties music?"

Altair didn't move or act as if he even heard him, just continued to lie there like a dead thing with his face in the pillow. It was like a dark cloud had parked itself over Altair's head and was pissing down rain on him.

"You really are acting like a little kid."

No reply.

Ezio rolled his eyes and clicked the lock on the door shuffling over to the bed with a grin on his face. He stood there, staring down at the PI's back for a few seconds, his eyes sliding the length of the older man's body… and settling on the rounded curve beneath his back pockets.

Altair was scowling into his pillow and enjoying the dulcet tones of a stoned Kurk Cobain pelting out the word on teens and mindlessness and trying to zone out and stop beating himself up over the fact he'd ov… And Ezio was suddenly on the bed, sitting on the backs of his knees, and both of the younger man's hands had found purchase on his ass.

For a moment he was a little confused and embarrassed that he was being so blatantly groped and was about to turn his head and ask just what the hell Ezio thought he was doing… when he remembered two little sentences; _"Okay… But I'm giving you open invitation. I-I kinda like having… having it done that way."_

He tilted his head, squinting out at Ezio from beneath his hood. The younger man's face was lightly flushed and his eyes intent, fingers making little hesitant kneading motions.

Altair found himself a little amused by the whole situation and with a quiet sigh crossed his arms under his chin. "Havin' fun?"

His lower lip sank between his teeth and he nodded without looking up.

"What're you thinkin' that's got you so intent on my ass?"

His brows scrunched and Altair thought it was a little creepy that he hadn't blinked yet, but couldn't help but grin despite everything.

Ezio didn't speak, just gave the back of his pants an emphatic little tug and rocked the growing bulge in his trousers against the backs of the PI's thighs.

"Really… Already? It's been what… three hours and you're—"

"You have no idea."

Altair laughed quietly, a genuinely amused and appreciative sound, a loving sound and it just made the heat and want in Ezio's belly burn all the hotter.

"You wanna give it a try up top?"

He gnawed his lip for a few seconds, thinking, but the insecurity built quickly. What if he hurt Altair? What if he didn't do it right and didn't make the older man feel good? What if he made a fool and had a _'holy shi—' _moment like Federico talked about… Then he thought about that hot full stretch from earlier. How slow, almost hesitant Altair had been with him—how wonderful it had felt, how freeing.

Ezio shook his head; "Not right now… Maybe later." He pulled a little more insistently.

"I don't want you to be too sore later, we can do a Slip-n'-Slide if you like."

"Slip-n'-Slide?" He snorted.

Altair grinned from under his lashes, and laced his hands together, tapping his index fingers as if in thought.

Ezio blushed and tried not to laugh. "I've heard it called a lot of things, but never that."

"I usually call it 'Doing it Dutch'."

"What?" He giggled in his amusement, hands still firmly covering the PI's behind.

"Well, when you Go Dutch on a date you split the check right down the middle so nobody gets stuck with less or more of the bill than the other…"

"Why not just call it Half-sies."

Altair rested his cheek on his folded arms and seemed to shrug with his eyebrows. "Seems less cutesie-wootsie when you're 'Doing it Dutch' as opposed to 'Going Half-sies'."

"Fine, fine… point made."

Altair flicked a finger through the air as if making a tally mark.

Ezio rolled off of him and shimmied out of his pants, watching with a kind of shivery anticipation as Altair just took a moment to look at him sprawled there wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a grin, his knees hiked up, erection standing proud between his legs.

There was something more real about seeing him like that in the light. Even if it was orangey diffused light through thick curtains. It made his skin glow, and the sparkle in his eyes look like flames.

Altair scratched absently at the scar on his lips and just looked at him for a long while, mouth quirked up in a small, secret little grin.

Ezio chuckled and tilted his head on his shoulders, eyes crinkling in amusement and self consciousness. "Why are you starin' at me like that?"

"'cause."

He rolled his eyes; "'Cause' why?"

"'cause I'm proud of you."

His smile vanished and for a while Ezio just stared at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Something between awe, tenderness and confusion.

"I look at you and I see so much… You've overcome so much shit, Ezio, and you're still optimistic, you're still so kind and loving and I look at you… I look at you and I think…" His voice pattered off and he just gazed at him for a little while, words seeming to fall short of what he wanted to say.

Ezio swallowed and the certainty that Altair loved him filled him again. He lifted himself to an elbow and leaned forward, tugging and nudging, lips pressing together slowly, tenderly. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing, but was doing it just the same, coaxing Altair onto his back and pulling confidently at his pants.

There was something urgent in his movements, in the way his hand had lost a little of that hesitance, touches firm as he rubbed at the thickening lump in the PI's underwear, finding it oddly exciting as he could feel each inch of it growing. The pressure was familiar and he had to shake his head to rid himself of such thoughts but he just kept whispering in his mind that this wasn't someone else, this was the man he loved and it was OK, there was nothing scary about it, they'd done this only just a few short hours ago. The dull ache and burn whenever he tightened his inner muscles was evidence enough, as well as the quick flashes of memory that made those very muscles relax again in preparation for what he was planning.

That little black box was still on the night stand, hidden under a t-shirt the PI had flung over his shoulder earlier while searching through the piles in his closet for suitable lounging attire. And that little tube of lubricant was there beside it, waiting.

Ezio saw them and for the first time wasn't embarrassed by them, or worried. He snatched them up without even thinking about it, mouth still firmly connected with Altair's, grinning into each deep kiss.

He became aware of something hot at that moment, something hot that seemed to be expanding below his heart. He wasn't really sure what it was at first, just felt himself acting without thought, catching the PI's lower lip between his teeth and drawing on it. Loving the little upward tilt of Altair's eyebrows, or the dip of his lashes, something needy in his expression. It wasn't until he'd straddled the older man's hips, right hand rubbing purposefully at that hidden firm flesh behind black boxerbriefs while his left slid behind himself, fingers slick with the contents of that tube, easing inward, that he really truly realized what this heat in his middle meant.

Altair's brows tilted upward a little more, head lifting from the pillow hands firm, pulling gently at the back of Ezio's neck while his right hand slid around and curious, gentle fingers found what he was doing back there…

The heat in his middle spiked, like electricity shooting up and down his spine, into his head and into his crotch because of the tiny, almost helpless little moan that the PI breathed into his mouth.

He returned it, pushing his fingers in a little harder, muscles twitching in sync with his motions, feeling little wanting noises rising in his throat because Altair's fingers were back there too, spreading more gel over his opening, pausing to touch and feel where he was thrusting into himself…

Ezio remembered Altair saying _"You can have sex without intimacy, and you can have intimacy without sex."_ Yeah, that was just what this was. They'd had intimacy, there was still something intimate about this, but as opposed to earlier, this rang in Ezio's mind as something purely physical… Before it had been about expressing his love, it had been more about being together and in love. This time, his insecurities sated for the time being, was purely and selfishly about sex.

Ezio wanted more of the physical sensation. Wanted to feel Altair inside him again, and wanted the older man to feel as good as he had felt earlier.

He grinned, a devious crooked grin and the hand he'd been using to rub suggestively at the front of Altair's underwear found purchase on the PI's chest, long thin fingers plucking purposefully at that shiny silver barbell through the older man's left nipple.

Altair had always thought Ezio was a little pushy, not that he minded, he thought Ezio had a right to be pushy, and aside from the few times that insistence had grated on his nerves and sensibilities, he kind of thought it was cute. Like now for instance, staring up through slit lids at Ezio as he rocked and shifted about preparing himself, grinning and chuckling and totally without a care in the world, insistent on having his way with Altair weather the PI helped or not.

This was cute, hogging all the blankets, not so much but Altair could always get more blankets.

He didn't want to move either of his hands truthfully. He knew if he moved his left hand from the back of Ezio's neck the younger man would end up giving him another hickey, probably right on his Adam's Apple like he'd threatened earlier, or play tug-of-war with his teeth on Altair's poor nipple ring… although that probably wouldn't be so bad. And his right hand was absolutely loving that Ezio's fingers were between his, moving in and out and he could feel every bit of it. Loved that he hadn't been told not to touch yet, because there was something just unbearably sexy about what Ezio's fingers were doing and if he couldn't see it, at least his fingers could give him a running commentary.

It was probably the worst decision he'd ever been faced with that pertained to sex. Altair very much enjoyed physicality. He was a male, and males tend to be that way.

Ezio leaned back, making the decision for him and his left hand dropped to the pillow by his head.

He licked his lips, as if his tongue were no longer in his control, still twiddling Altair's nipple ring as if his very life depended on it. "I promised Malik—"

"Noooooo!" His nose wrinkled up, voice coming out in a whining laugh; "Don't mention Malik! Please, dear GOD don't mention Malik when I'm hard… instant boner kill."

Ezio snorted; "Yeah right," He ground his hips downward; "Still hard."

"Killed it a little…" He held up his fingers pinched closely together; "Just a little."

Ezio made a farting noise between his lips; "You know you'd hit that if he let you." He leaned close and offered a quick kiss as an apology then continued; "As I was saying… He-who-shall-remain-nameless told me to tell you Hadiya made Hummus."

Altair's mouth quirked to the side, eyes going dim for a moment in deep thought. There were far too few things that could shake Altair's mind from food… This, however, was one of those things.

"Later…" His hand slid between them, pushing at the elastic to his underwear, working it down each hip, lower lip between his teeth, breath leaving in a whine as he eased himself out. There was something really nice about having your dick in the air. He didn't know what, or why, but there really was something nice about it. Especially when in a few moments it would be somewhere else, somewhere that would feel exponentially better than the air. "Y-you take the lead, OK?"

Ezio snorted; "Already taken, smartass."

Altair chuckled, the sound falling off into a sigh as the younger man's hand retreated from his piercing and found the little black foil packet that had slid across the mattress and tried to hide under his shoulder. In the back of his mind a young teenaged version of himself had both fists in the air cheering that he was about to have sex for the second time that day and his chuckle returned, ticklish as Ezio shifted his knees and bumped his ribs.

"Here… I-I can't do everything." He held out the opened package, their fingers bumping as he squeezed it out, watching the PI's scarred hand work, the way his eyebrows twitched and his lower lip went between his teeth as he gave himself a few preparatory strokes, breath coming out in urgent pants.

Ezio seemed impatient, not that Altair cared at the moment, the teenager in his head was having a party and using all his built in six gigs of memory to do it. There was a live band, a flat screen TV, a couple strippers—

And Ezio had hold of his dick in a grip that was a little too tight but that was just fine. Hips arched thighs spread. The younger man gave a little shiver as he pulled his fingers free, the 'all clear' signal for Altair to move his own, and the next thing the PI knew was Ezio was sinking down onto him, humming steadily in his throat, brows scrunched in concentration. He touched the small of his back lightly, locking eyes with him.

This was the serious part, probably the hardest part. Sex was new between them, and although it was pretty obvious he wanted it, there was still that little bit of apprehension, probably always would be. He needed these few moments after penetration to recenter his emotions. Remind himself that this wasn't wrong. And Altair would gladly and quietly just lay there until he was ready.

Altair didn't need to ask, didn't need to abuse those words 'are you OK' any more. A look was enough, the silence said it all.

Ezio sat there for a few minutes, every breath and beat of his heart transferred through where he was so snugly wrapped around the PI. Every little shift and shiver. But after a moment he nodded and rested his hands on Altair's chest, letting a small smile grow on his face. "Hey," He gave the nipple ring a firm tug; "Why don't you get the other one done to match? Then we can like, put a strap through it like reins."

He chuckled; "Maybe… I've been doing research on body piercing… Thinkin' about somethin' a little lower."

Ezio snorted and let his hips shift and move slowly, reintroducing himself to the act; "Not if you expect to have sex again any time soon."

"'heard it f-feels really good."

"It doesn't. Really doesn't."

"No?"

"Nope."

"What about a tongue ring?"

"You wouldn't get your tongue pierced."

"No, but I've seen l-little things you c-can stick on your tongue by suction that do the s-same—_hnnnn_ little h-harder." His eyes squeezed closed, lower lip trapped between his teeth, body arching.

Ezio didn't know what to think of that face, or how he knew what Altair had wanted, only that as soon as that desperate tone had leaked into the PI's voice he'd known, fingers pulling just a little—

Well, that was the end of that conversation… _So… Altair liked it… **I** liked that noise… Wonder if I can get him to do it again. _

He leaned forward, cocking his knees outward and braced his left hand on the pillow by the PI's head, eyes locked on the older man's face. He lifted himself slowly, carefully and rocked back down, easing into the motions, each pull and drop shallower until he was rocking firmly and quickly, meeting Altair's hips as they rose and fell.

It was chaotic at first, Altair trying to keep things slow and gentle, hesitant, but Ezio pushingpushingpushing until the PI finally gave in, head tilting back, breath quick and urgent, something in his expression open and lost and loving every second of it.

He had been afraid at first, afraid that if things should get a little fast, or a little less gentle than they had been earlier, that his mind would start filling with images of other men, of hateful forcefulness, and he would have to ask Altair to stop… The urgency of it was familiar, but with his eyes on Altair's face, he was able to push it away, able to remind himself of where he was, who this was, and that there was nothing wrong with it. He did that twice, and didn't have to do it a third time, because he was so enthralled by the sound of Altair's pleasure. The man who had brought him so much comfort, so much joy earlier that morning, was sweating his hips rolling firmly and steadily beneath him, dick hard and working away at his insides as if God himself had sculpted it just for this. Hot and full, making his toes curl because every time their motions struck together his prostate throbbed deliciously… And the PI's hand was on him, gentle and slow, mapping out each vein and ridge of his shaft, thumb rubbing at his tip, practically worshiping it while he plucked and pulled and twisted at Altair's piercing, their mouths together, gasping, groaning, tongues dancing, foreign feeling in one another's mouths but warm and carrying a hint of the other's taste. Sweet and smooth and spicy all mixed into one.

Earlier that day their lovemaking had been beautiful in its simplicity, in its innocence. Now Ezio thought this was beautiful in another way. Beautiful because there was no hesitation, no fear in it and no need to comfort that fear. It was beautiful in its complexities. How Altair's body moved beneath, against and within his own. How his rising temperature made the new deodorant smell so dark and deep and made him feel almost ravenous for the PI's touch. That his own body was moving, seeming to dance like a flame, so hot he was almost burning. The pull and thrust of their motions sent pure and feral heat running up and down his spine, drawing his balls tight to his body so they bumped Altair's fist on every stroke. Moving and shifting as he rocked.

He was aware of everything; the heat in the room, the light filtering in through the curtains, a stressed noise from the bed beneath them… a door opening and quickly closing somewhere, every twisting vein and firm ridge of tissue covering Altair's cock, pushing and shifting and throbbing inside of him.

The urgency was almost maddening, each whine and whimper and plea of '_harder—harder faster' _that fell from his lips went out without his knowledge, everything was just happening and wonderful and fantastic. Hands slipping in sweat, scrambling for better places to grip and finding the headboard to latch onto for leverage, lifting himself higher. His thighs and lower back and hips were aching and burning from the strain of maintaining such feverish motion. He was aware of the tremble in Altair's fingers as they tried not to grip too hard at his hip, following his movements. The way the PI's pupils were dilated wide as their eyes connected, his face flushed and his brows cocked upward as he tried to restrain himself, tried to hold back a little longer because this felt too good to end so soon.

Ezio's breath was coming out in moans by that point, gasping it in again, taken over by the sound and the taste and the visceral quality of it. Enthralled in a way he never had been before, helpless and enveloped by his need to come as hard and as soon as possible because it would feel so very- very good and he might just shatter into a million pieces along with it. His hair clung it wet tendrils to his face and neck and back, muscles burning for relief, but he kept going, focused on that tiny little spot deep in his abdomen that would begin to feel almost itchy just moments before orgasm crashed on him. He needed that feeling, knew it would happen soon and slid his right hand from the headboard to tangle in Altair's hair, eyes locking, understanding passing between them like breath. The PI's hand sped up, hips snapping upward with a little more force, sweat standing out in large beads on his brow.

And that was it. Ezio's head snapped back on his neck, body arching, urgent, shivering almost pained sounds of '_oh-oh-ahhhh-ahhhh'_ coming from deep in his chest, low and a little frightened by the intensity of it all. Tendons standing out on his inner thighs, and Altair couldn't hold it in, his body followed, going unforgivingly tight, a sound he couldn't classify as either a gasp, a grunt or maybe even a scream escaping him.

Ezio didn't move for a long time, left hand clamped on the headboard, right in Altair's hair like rigid talons, eyes closed, brows crooked upward, face flushed.

Altair was boneless, happily so, petting gently with numb fingertips up and down the younger man's thigh, fingers feeling sticky and wet where he was still holding Ezio's spent length. After a moment he cleared his throat. "Y-you alright?"

Ezio nodded slowly, his throat working as he swallowed, voice just a pale hiss from swollen lips; "'never come t-that hard before… g-give me m-minute."

Altair's left hand came up, petting the hair from his face, searching for any indication that something may be wrong. "Wanna take a bath?"

"Th-that'd be nice…"

Altair hummed and after a moment of motionlessness chuckled under his breath. "Can you move at all?"

He nodded, but the motion rounded itself into a shake of his head, "Guess not."

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_PS; Altair was listening to 'Rendezvous' or, as it's more commonly known as, the 'heart in a blender' song. _

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	4. Chapter 4

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**_Reference;_**_ Deleted Chapter set after Chapter 60. The Morning after **Save a Horse…** _

_The second of three chapters I had to edit out after Devil Child. I edited this one out for two reasons, one; no real story progression. Two; I think it might paint one of the characters in an unfair light, but I'll let you be the judge._

_Looking back, I kind of wish I'd left this chapter in because it explains some of the stuff that's happening in Fast Cars, and some of the things that happened before it. I might be persuaded to do a RE-EDIT and put it back in but at the moment I'm not sure._

_No Mansex, but hints at a scene still to come, that will most likely be in Fast Cars instead of here._

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**Chapter 4; Practical Applications**

It was laughable, to think about it anyway. It almost felt as if something were wrong with him, or that some strangeness, some oddity had rubbed off on him like wet ink.

Altair had gone to the store, at Malik's bidding… More like the shorter man banged on the door late that evening, waking the two of them from a most peaceful slumber, and demanded that Altair open up, it was an emergency.

And Altair had, shuffling over in his underwear and socks, hair bent and crimped from sleeping on it while it had still been damp from the shower, frizzy looking and almost poofy because he'd just scrubbed it with a towel and collapsed across the bed.

Ezio snorted quietly into his pillow and feigned sleep, watching through slit lids as Altair had opened the door and stood there with his right hip stuck out rubbing the goo from his eyes. "What."

And Malik had had an almost feverish look in his eyes, maybe even a little panicked. "You're going to the store."

Altair's chin bobbed toward his chest as he yawned; "What? It's—" He glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock; "—It's ten-thirty… Go yourself." And he'd tried to shut the door but Malik grabbed it, stopping its advance toward the jamb with the solidity of his palm and the strength in his muscles.

"You are going to the store." There wasn't any room for an argument, not with Malik's eyes narrowed like that.

Altair sighed, "Why am I going to the store?"

"Peanut butter, watermelon and chocolate pudding."

Altair rolled his head on his shoulders in misery; "Why the fuck can't you d—"

"Because I had to listen to that _racket_, you two made earlier and try to convince my client you were moving furniture."

Altair's shoulders tensed and after a moment slumped and he grumbled bitterly; "Crunchy peanut butter or smooth?"

"There's a good boy," Malik grinned, that toothy unholy grin of his and gave Altair's forehead a sharp flip. "I prefer smooth."

Ezio grinned into the pillow and dozed off while Altair dressed, waking only enough to smile and ask the older to bring back some Fruity Pebbles and Pepsi when the PI leaned over, brushed his lips against the younger man's ear and asked if there was anything he wanted.

Altair chuckled warmly and kissed the curve of his jaw, "'be back in a little while."

"Mhmm," He didn't open his eyes; "You better."

Ezio dozed off for a while longer, not quite asleep, but not quite awake either, smiling, hips rubbing gently against the sheets that still smelled of Altair and the heat of their recent activities. His mind wandered, replaying the intensity of the sounds he'd been able to draw from the PI. The little whimpers and whines. The soft moans of his name. The expressions of helpless, overwhelming pleasure on his face… The sense of knowing that not only had it felt utterly fantastic for Ezio himself, but for Altair as well. That he was completely in charge of the situation and Altair was liking it… was _loving_ it.

Now _that_… Ezio kind of liked the whole being in control thing. He liked that just making himself feel good had, in turn, made Altair feel good—

_Crap…_ Now he was awake. Awake and rubbing himself almost desperately against the mattress.

He flopped onto his back, smiling unrepentantly at the ceiling, stretching his limbs and back, feeling his inner muscles loosen and tighten rhythmically because of that_ burn._

He wondered what Altair would do if he came back and found Ezio just laying there completely naked, prepared and ready for him… Wondered what Altair would do if he came back and found Ezio laying there with his hand in his pants counting the seconds in time with his strokes.

_Well, I'm not going back to sleep now…_ He sighed and rubbed his face, groping off the side of the bed into the pile of discarded clothes from earlier, where he was sure he'd dropped the PI's TV remote. _Topless mud wrestling it is._

Only it wasn't topless mud wrestling.

Ezio's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks turning horridly, unflatteringly pink.

Ezio, despite living those hellish nine years as he had… Had never seen porn before. Even if it was only the last fifteen minutes, it seemed Altair had typed in the wrong time to start the TIVO… he hoped anyway, because just saving the last fifteen minutes of a porno was kind of… Ezio felt his head tilt slowly to the side, not quite believing the angle and position the men on the screen had managed to achieve. Was that even possible?

Just as the images on the screen were starting to make him uncomfortable, beginning to make feelings of disgust and alarm and revulsion resurface and he was lifting the remote to change the channel the brunette on screen disengaged from his on-stage lover and hiked his knees to his chest the bigger blonde leaning over him with his eyes dull and bored and maybe even a little bit stoned and—

The brunette made a breathy noise, a noise that sounded almost genuine… More so than the noises he'd been making a few moments before anyway. And for a second there was actual desire in his gaze. And Ezio… Ezio had his knees pressed tightly together, every muscle in his body gone rigid because THAT was something he was familiar with… THAT had been something one of his clients, years ago, had said he wanted to do to the then seventeen-year-old Ezio… That had been probably the only time, ever, that he'd felt what he'd just seen flash in the brunette's eyes.

A moment of shock maybe, where the mask of faked enjoyment gives to actual pleasure… just a brief second of it before you force the mask up again because it's easier to accept if you're just pretending…

Ezio swallowed with great effort and changed the channel, settling on something mind numbing that was in no way sexual. He thought it was an infomercial for some food processor or something. He slouched low in the bed and bundled Altair's blankets around himself, cocooning his senses with the PI's smell. He watched disinterestedly for a little while, fighting to keep his eyes open, and found himself awoken some while later by the PI slumping back into bed.

Altair hummed and tried to wiggle under the blankets with him but Ezio shook his head and pulled them closer, slithering and sliding until he was lying sprawled on top of the older man, his head pillowed on the back of the PI's shoulder, sharing enough of the quilts that if Altair curled himself inward he would be covered.

Unfortunately Altair enjoyed only one position to sleep in when so thoroughly exhausted as he was. He enjoyed lying sprawled bonelessly across his mattress on his stomach with his feet hanging over the bottom edge and his blankets covering him from ankle to crown. Too bad for him Ezio had decided to make a teddy bear out of him and wrapped both of his arms around the PI's chest.

Altair whined halfheartedly at the weight pressing him to the bed, not bothering to open his eyes to complain, just a few little whines as Ezio settled himself and a sigh when he decided having the younger man as a blanket wasn't so bad. He woke a few times that night to Ezio shifting around, and once to him snoring into the back of his neck. He lie there for a while just grinning to himself at the sound. Nasally breathing through an open mouth, and somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped Ezio didn't drool on him, and he was swallowed by his dreams again.

Ezio woke him again, sometime after nine the next morning, grumbling quietly to himself and gingerly shifting away, thinking Altair was still soundly asleep, complaining about morning wood and that he didn't care how great sex felt he was too sore to do it again. So you'd better just go away so I can piss in peace and go back to sleep.

Altair grinned into his pillow but thankfully didn't alert Ezio to the fact he was awake.

When Ezio came back to bed about half an hour later his eyes were squinted sleepily, lower lip poked out in that way only someone who is annoyed at their wakefulness can manage, scratching his fingers through his loose hair because he'd lost his hair band somewhere and now his scalp was sore and itchy from sleeping with wet hair. He had pulled on a sweatshirt over his bare chest and one leg of his boxers had ridden up in the back, toes turned inward as he tried to stay on his feet.

Altair had stolen half the blankets, twisting and flipping them about quietly until they more fully resembled blankets instead of rumpled cloth. He gave the younger man a crooked grin and rolled back onto his side, holding up the edge for Ezio to roll under with him. He accepted it, at that moment, as Ezio merely being very tired—both mentally and physically—and it wouldn't come to him until later that it meant more, but the younger man rolled under the blankets, forming his back to Altair's front and pulling the PI's right arm across his middle.

"I could have taken care of it for you." Altair breathed into the flesh below Ezio's ear.

He grunted and laced his fingers over the PI's, bringing that warm calloused palm to his face and pressing the chilled tip of his nose to it. "Too tired…"

Altair hummed knowingly and it was quiet for a while. Just enjoying the closeness and the warm solid press of Ezio's body against him.

"Altair?"

"Yeeaaah?" He yawned.

"Can—W-well, what… what I mean is…" He wrinkled his mouth up in thought; "Can I do something to you?" Then as an afterthought; "Not today… but soon."

He thought about it for a moment then nodded. "If you want…"

Ezio nodded, and pressed his lips to Altair's palm, breathing into his skin as he drifted slowly back to sleep; "I'll tell you when I'm ready."

"'m'kay… when y-you're ready." He yawned and they were still again.

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Ready, it seemed, wasn't as easy as Ezio had thought it would be.

When he had awoken later that day to his cell phone ringing, it had taken only three minutes for him to remember every detail of what he wanted to do to the PI… And that he'd actually asked for permission.

Thankfully, or perhaps not, Ezio thought it really depended on how the rest of the day went, Leo offered a distraction. The moment Ezio answered his phone he knew something was wrong. The blonde's voice sounded strained, as if he were on the verge of a panic.

"It's all my fault! It's my fault… Oh, GOD! What have I done?"

Ezio sat up, punching the pillow Altair had pressed into his back so he could sneak away without guilt to work. He shifted his hips against the mattress for a few seconds, enjoying the burn and ache between his legs and deep in his lower back. "What's wrong? What do you think you've done?"

Leo's breath hitched on a sob and the words that came out were so strained, so hopeless, it sent a shard of panic shooting through Ezio's chest;

"Park quit… H-he's gone."

Ezio's eyes widened. "What?" His head shook; "But you two got along so well!"

"I-I th-thought so… He was irritating sometimes, kept picking on me trying to distract me from work—Like someone else I know." He scowled into the phone and Ezio's nose wrinkled, his eyes flicking up into the corner trying to act innocent.

"He—he just qu-quit! P-packed his things and l-left last night." He bit back half a sob; "He d-didn't even s-say goodbye."

"And how is that your fault?"

Leo was quiet for a fifteen count, and Ezio could feel the tension growing in him. Whatever had happened, had been something big because—

"W-we were wrestling yesterday, b-before I came over there… Stupidity, just playing like we've done before, and I pinned him a-and…"

"And what?"

Leo's voice was very tense, and Ezio could picture the worry in his expression; "Well… s-some-sometime while we w-were playing I—I be—w-what I mean is I'd become… It was—" He made a soft humming noise in the back of his throat; "Things happened…"

"You mean…" Ezio's eyebrows rose in surprise.

The silence spoke volumes.

"Oh, Leo…" He swallowed thickly, a little unnerved; "What happened?"

"He—he noticed…" He snorted; "How could he not notice, I was on top of him—" Leo let out a low growling noise and Ezio envisioned him gripping his hair; "W-when I realized it I-I froze… I was horrified, but he just—just looked at me for a little bit." His breath sobbed out; "I scared him, Ezio. I scared him and now he's gone…" Another sob; "Y-you should have let me just c-cut it off—"

"Stop it!" Ezio wasn't sure where the tone had come from. That angry, commanding tone. The kind of voice the men who had hurt them had used… It scared him a little that he was capable of making such a sound, scared him even more that Leo went deathly still on the other end of the phone, but at least the blonde had stopped talking… At least he'd stopped talking and halted those awful, horrible mental images that sprang into Ezio's mind of the time, years and years and years ago he'd walked in on Leo in the bathroom trying to emasculate himself out of disgust.

"I-I'm s-sorry, Ezio… I'm so-so sorry…"

Ezio took a deep breath and let it out slowly; "It's alright… J-just calm down. He wouldn't have left just because of that, Leo. There has to be something else." He bowed his head over his knees and sighed deeply. Feeling exhausted despite the fact he'd been asleep moments ago.

"There is nothing else… It's my fault. It's all my fault."

Ezio lifted his head and blinked blearily around at Altair's bedroom, his thoughts going a mile a minute. "Who is with you now?"

"His name is Arnold… He's n-not very talkative… He reminds me of your uncle, only not as fun."

Ezio snorted. "Would he let you come out to have lunch?"

"I don't think so… The FBI was here earlier asking more questions… I think they must have found something. They were very specific on what they were asking."

"Oh?"

"Yes… I'm not supposed to talk about it though."

Ezio hummed and didn't press the matter, even though it made his stomach churn. He forced himself to his feet, stretching quietly and trying to hold back the quickness of his breath when everything south of his navel ached at the movement. He'd become very good, over the years, at hiding the limp of a man who'd recently been on the receiving end of not-so-gentle sex. He'd become so good at it, he did so without thought.

The building was quiet, warm and filled with that humming sensation of its inhabitants, but quiet. Malik and Hadiya's children must be at school, Ezio rationalized, and shuffled quietly down the hall to Altair's office. The door was open so he didn't hesitate approaching, standing there in the doorway until Altair glanced up from his computer and acknowledged him.

The PI's brows drew down in concern when he saw the look on Ezio's face and his mouth moved silently, forming the words; 'What's wrong?' in the least obtrusive way possible.

Ezio made an 'L' with his forefinger and thumb and shaped the blonde's name with his lips.

Altair mimed back at him; 'Is he OK?'

Ezio shook his head; 'Park quit.'

And Altair's eyes widened. He pushed himself back from his computer and just sat there for a minute. Ezio tiptoed behind him and reclined on the older man's futon couch with his free arm thrown over his eyes.

Leo was making quiet snuffling noises over the phone.

Altair tapped his chest with something and when Ezio opened his eyes he was greeted with a spiral bound notebook open to a blank page with a single question scribbled on the top in Altair's flowing, but somehow hectic script; _'What happened?'_

He sighed, but took the notebook and pen, jackknifing his legs like a makeshift desk and scrawling quickly while he waited for Leo to compose himself enough to continue talking.

_'Leo and Park were wrestling and Leo got hard. Park noticed it and now Leo thinks it's his fault because Park left.'_

He turned the notebook and held it up so Altair could read his answer.

The PI's eyes widened a little and his cheeks pinked.

Ezio lowered the notebook and wrote some more;

_'He's very upset. He and Park were friends, and I think he kind of LIKED Park.'_

Altair nodded and turned back around in his seat, seemingly satisfied.

Ezio lowered the notebook to his chest and covered his eyes with his arm again.

Leo must have found some tissue because he tried to blow his nose as discreetly as possible.

A marker squeaked against a sheet of paper and Ezio lifted his elbow enough to peer out and wonder what Altair was doing.

Altair was hunched over his desk with his face close to what he was doing and Ezio could practically feel the energy rolling off of him like fog.

A moment later he capped the Sharpie and turned around, brandishing the page at Ezio with a somehow disturbingly cheerful grin on his face.

And Ezio felt all the blood in his body rush to his cheeks because Altair had drawn a rather crude, and lewd image on the paper of two stick figures, one wearing a red beret, having rather graphic stick figure sex.

For a moment Ezio was too shocked to do much of anything but stare at it. But then the shock gave way to utter and complete mortification because the stick figure with the red hat and long swoops for hair had nothing but inverted 'V' shapes for eyes and a little number '3' for lips… and seemed to be _really_ enjoying himself as he pounded his little stick figure partner.

Ezio blinked up at Altair awkwardly, but said nothing.

Altair nodded vigorously and gave his drawing a little shake for emphasis, his mouth moving in exaggeratedly slow forms as he tried to be understood without speaking; 'Park has the hots for him too!'

Ezio shook his head, brows drawn down because he was a little embarrassed by Altair at that moment. A little horrified and amused and grossed out by what the older man had drawn because it made him wonder how often he drew such things since he seemed so shameless now.

Altair nodded and pointed at the place the two figures met, his brows drawn down seriously; 'Park likes it rough.'

'You're so full of shit.'

Altair shrugged innocently and kept pointing; 'I've seen it with my own two eyes! He likes him A LOT!'

Ezio flapped a hand at him and glared.

"Ezio, what am I going to do?" Leo thumped down into a chair or on the couch or something soft.

Ezio turned away from Altair and rolled onto his side, forehead pressed into the backrest of the futon. "Have you tried talking to him? You have his phone number."

"He quit, Ezio… he QUIT. He doesn't want to be around me anymore…"

"You don't know that. Maybe his mother got sick?"

"No… He would have told me… H-he told me just about everything." He snuffed.

"Well, I still don't think he left because of THAT. I mean, I—I practically dry humped Altair half a dozen times and he didn't tell me to get lost."

Leo snorted; "That doesn't surprise me though… You're very fond of dry humping."

"I am not."

"If you say so…" His breath came out in a sigh. "He just looked up at me, Ezio, with this expression on his face and I—I liked it… I wanted to—to…" He choked; "I'm just the same as THEY are. I was ready to hurt him…"

"No you weren't. There's a difference… You remember what Marjory said?"

"'bout what?"

"About the way your body tells your mind it needs things?"

Leo was quiet so Ezio assumed he remembered.

"Now, do you remember what my mother said?"

"'bout what? Your mother has told me quite a lot…"

"About Freud? How sometimes a cigar is just a cigar?" he swallowed and felt some strange sting of certainty in his middle; "Maybe you liked it, just because you liked it… Not because of what happened before."

"But—"

"No buts, I'm a genius remember?" He grinned and could feel Leo grinning as well. Something small and fragile, but a grin none the less.

Altair's Sharpie squeaked against paper again and when Ezio turned his head he was met with an even more disturbing sight, he rolled his eyes and turned away before the PI could see the blush on his face.

It seemed not only could Altair draw pervy stick figures, he could also draw cute little fat faced cartoon versions of himself and Ezio making heart eyed kissy faces at one another.

Altair looked almost ready to wet himself he was struggling so hard not to laugh.

Ezio promised himself he would burn those drawings later and scatter the ashes to the wind just so Malik would never EVER see them. The last thing he needed was the printer knowing what saps he and Altair were.

"Look, Leo… Just relax, go—go take a nap, or have Arnold take you to the zoo again… Don't you have paintings you're supposed to do for the art show?"

Leo snuffed and although he couldn't see it, Ezio could feel the blonde nodding.

"Just go calm down a little bit, do something you enjoy doing and relax for a while, then call me back, OK. Maybe Arnold will even let me come over and I can make something for you to eat. I'm getting very good at cooking."

"You are?"

"Yeah… I've got a lot to talk to you about, but I'd rather do it in person, OK. So, you go calm down for a while, then call me back and we'll have lunch or dinner—hell, I'll come over and we can have a midnight snack."

And the blonde made a wet, little chuckling noise and relief washed over Ezio.

"Okay, Ezio… Thank you. I-I'll try to calm down a little and call you back."

They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Ezio lay there on the futon couch for a while, then peered amusedly from under his arm because Altair was still holding up that picture he'd drawn of the two of them making kissy faces, attempting to make an innocent face, but there was too much amusement in his expression to allow it.

"Altair?"

He hummed.

"I have never been more embarrassed by a pair of stick figures in all my life."

"Oh, that's nothing… I've got a copy of the Comma Sutra in my room there. It's hilarious."

"Don't you mean Ka—"

"Nope. COMMA, as in the punctuation mark, SUTRA."

Ezio was quiet for a while, eyes hidden by his arm. He heard Altair shifting and a moment later felt a weight on the futon beside him.

"Hey."

He lifted his arm and peered out.

Altair was perched on the edge of the couch at his hip, elbow braced on the backrest, jaw on his hand. "You OK?"

He nodded; "I just don't like it when Leo's upset like that… And I want to tell him how happy I am about—about this—us… But I didn't realize before now that he and I aren't on the same level anymore. He needs more help than he's getting, and I don't think the FBI or the Marshals guarding him understand that… I'm scared for him, Altair."

He nodded, free hand lifting and carding through the younger man's hair, gaze loving and sympathetic and sad; "I'll see what kind of strings I can pull… Maybe I can get the Deputy Director to agree to let him go see Marjory again, since she helped you so much."

He nodded again, and for a while just sat there and let Altair pet his head and brush his knuckles against his cheek.

"You wanna go get some food?"

Ezio shook his head.

"Don't feel good?"

Another shake and Altair nodded in acknowledgement. "Lift up a second…"

He did, and Altair slid to sit on the couch, producing a pillow from a plastic storage crate he kept under the couch and cushioning his lap with it, fingers strong and gentle as they combed through the length of Ezio's hair, working out the tangles and massaging his scalp.

After a few minutes the tension in Ezio's shoulders and neck began to ease and he whispered quietly, barely any sound leaving him at all, that it felt good, and he sought out Altair's scarred left hand and hooked his own small finger around Altair's lonely one, thinking that with his own there, it wouldn't be so lonely anymore.

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	5. Chapter 5

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**_Reference;_**_ Superfluous mansex Part 2a… Chapter 63_

_I edited this one out simply because it was kind of a failed attempt. It's more of a blooper than an edited chapter, so don't take it too seriously. _

_If you guys like it though, I can leave it as cannon. :P  
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**Chapter 5; Alien Life Form**

"Close your eyes."

Ezio snorted; "Why?"

"Because I don't want you to see where I hid it."

"It's a large black toolbox, there are only so many places you can hide it. And since it's not under the sink, or under your bed, I'm guessing you hid it in your closet… Very original."

Altair's eyes narrowed and his cheeks pinked. "You peeked."

"No, you just told me."

Altair's eyes rolled; "Don't give me that crap," He shuffled over to the closet and pulled it open, kicking aside a few piles of jeans and shirts and pulling the box out. His face was still quite red, and Ezio had a feeling he'd never really let anybody see him actually opening and rummaging about in the box.

Altair sat it on the foot of the bed by Ezio's hip and fished his keys from his pocket. "Any rules?"

Ezio shook his head and flopped backward onto the bed with his fingers laced at the nape of his neck.

Altair nodded and dropped the small ring of keys onto the sheet, "You asked me what I was playing with on my birthday?"

He nodded, excitement bubbling in his chest.

Altair let his breath out in a whoosh and before he could change his mind, opened the box and lifted something out of it.

His expression was very awkward, as if he were trying not to look at it because looking at it would mean he would probably turn redder because he knew how good it felt. Looking at it would mean he would have to see something he'd put inside himself while… yeah, not looking at it.

It wasn't exactly black, but there was no denying what it was, and for a few minutes Ezio just stared at it, his mind filling in any missing mental images of the night of Altair's birthday. He estimated it to be about nine inches, including the control wheel at the end, black with what looked like a white racing stripe. He tried to hold back a giggle, but the fact Altair's shoulders twitched and he looked higher on the far wall told Ezio he hadn't quite managed silence.

He was surprisingly calm considering the fact Altair was holding an impressive looking vibrator and sporting a growing tent in his pants. "What does it do?"

Altair took a deep breath and made himself look, forcing a mask of indifference on his face to hide his embarrassment. His hands shook a little as he turned it on—

Ezio released a little shrieking noise and clapped one hand over his mouth, the other over his stomach and burst out laughing.

The thing seemed to writhe with an eerie life of its own in the few seconds Altair left it turned on before his face went well past pink and into purple and he turned it off and shoved it into the bottom of his box. "Okay, moving on!"

"H-ho-oooh-oh-oly shit!" Ezio cackled and rocked to his knees pulling it out of the box again, even as Altair tried to take it back. He turned it on and held it out, watching as it seemed to twist and wriggle and worm around in his fist. "Oh-Oh, Jesus, it l-looks like it'd hurt!"

"It doesn't, I assure you…."

Ezio just continued to laugh.

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	6. Chapter 6

WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN OZ!

I have literally had the very life stolen from my veins by a despicable man who should not have been trusted.

Charlie, former Hubby and cheating scumbag left me and recently tried to take Steve away. He almost succeeded completely, but I've managed to retain my mommy rights.

All of my email accounts and social media accounts were changed and after many months of fighting I finally got my email address password back and thankfully, was able to get a reset for this and a few other accounts.

That being said, I am going to be transplanting all my fics to A03, I've found a home there, and hopefully, now that shit has calmed down a little, I can get back to work doing something that brings me joy.

So, there. That's where OZ has been.


End file.
